Fitz’s CUPS

We learned a couple of years ago that our more-Schnauzery-miniature-Schnoodle, Fitz, has Chronic Ulcerative Paradental Stomatitis (CUPS), a painful condition in which the plaque builds up on his teeth and causes painful mouth ulcers. We knew something was wrong when my sweet lap dog who was never anywhere else took to the underbed and began whining odd-sounding noises. It prompted a vet visit, which turned up the diagnosis.

We have to have his teeth cleaned regularly, and with each cleaning we have had to return for extractions to alleviate his condition by removing teeth. He’s down to practically goat status, and after eleven teeth the first time, 8 teeth the second time, and now a projected additional 8 teeth, I’m inclined to go ahead with extracting all of them and resort to soft foods just to end his pain once and for all and give him some quality days in his senior years. There’ll be enough other aging crap to suffer, so this will put the skids on one condition.

This is the downside of rescuing a dog in poor health (Fitz came to us with a severely broken leg, among other things), but it’s also the upside. I ask myself: if not us, then who?

We may not be able to love every needed rescue and save them all, but we can make a difference for this one.

And that matters. If you’re teetering on the verge of rescuing an aging dog, do it! Even though an aging dog sometimes costs a small fortune, the return is love as they gaze into your eyes and wish they could talk to tell you how much they appreciate all you do for them – – – and what’s more valuable than that?

our dog has few top teeth in his mouth

now after a cleaning we learn

he needs more tooth extractions

we need a Go Fund Me

to afford Fitzie

but there is no

price on love…..

he’s our

boy

Boo Shoo Nonet

Boo sitting with his soul human (dad) 6/30/2024 needing no one else in the world

Boo’s got that human look in his eyes

the kind people give as eye rolls

stare-down between dog and man

are you being for real?

I’m gon’ ignore that!

you’re joking, right??

go away!

I’m done.

Shoo!

****

oh,

but then

Boo Radley

steals my chair, begs

me to sit with him

to assure him that his

world is on its right axis

that he is the favorite dog

begs my forgiveness for his Boo shoos

Boo in my writing chair on 7/2/2024

Sunday Morning Donuts Nonet

they like their mini donut breakfasts

it’s what happens on Sundays here

pre First-Baptist-of-You-Tube

sitting at their dad’s feet

waiting on a bite

patient Schnoodles

best-behavied

time of

all

In Places Loved Nonet

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

today I loaded my car with books

first editions, autographed names

I’m holding on no longer

to these inked hostages ~

those sentiments are

not mine; nor those

memories ~

I’ve let

go

of

housing

what should live

in places loved

where their worth is not

measured in value of

possible return or in

collectors’ satisfaction but

in what’s inside ~ their words and message

The Worms

I checked daily for 

weeks on our baby wrens

in the garage

on the old desk

destined for Goodwill

but when I got

home from work

the nest was destroyed

pulled into the yard

a broken candelabra

shattered on the 

concrete floor beneath

something got our babies

probably the feral cat

the black one that

comes in at night

trips the light 

prowls around on the hunt

I tiptoe sometimes

down the hall to watch it

in its silent quest for a 

field mouse

something found these

baby wrens I’d 

eagerly spied on

from eggs to

nestlings, almost

fledglings,

their tiny mouths

opening for worms

at the slightest 

bump or noise

in nature’s cruel twist

they became

the worms

Rest in peace, little ones.

Something Fast and Dangerous

Photo by Frans van Heerden on Pexels.com

it all happened so fast

thirty yards to our left

in the woods

along the edge of the driveway

in the rural countryside

in the early morning

where anything is possible

where most won’t walk without

a wildlife safety gun

** (but I do) **

as I was walking the dogs

a rustling of underbrush

and a flash

something fast and dangerous

*** (not a deer) ***

running through the trees

me in my work heels

in sudden panic

my sled dog team kicked into

high gear

jolting me into a

sprint

holding on tight

praying whatever it was

would keep going the other way

*** (it did) ***

making me wonder:

is it time for a wildlife gun

or at least a fire extinguisher?

Slice of Life and Open Write June Day 4 with Anna Roseboro

My writing groups converge today – Slice of Life Challenge writers and Open Write writers take joy on days when we get to see all of our fellow writers on the same day when the stars align. I’m so grateful for these groups of writers who are positive people, inspiring others to write. I also joined The Stafford Challenge in January, and we are around Day 160 of writing a poem every day for one entire year – so we’re close to the middle mark. Where would I be without my writing family? I don’t want to know.

Anna Roseboro of Michigan is our host for Day 4 of the June Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. She inspires us today to write reflection/projection poems, using synonyms for those words by looking forward and looking back. You can read her full prompt here. Today I have a working retreat before going off contract for three weeks over the summer, so I’ll be doing a lot of this today. I wrote a nonet, a nine-line poem with line-numbered syllables on each line in descending order.

Slice of Life writers are bloggers who share our posts and something about the moments of our lives. We write every day during March and all through the year on Tuesdays. You can find the home page at www.twowritingteachers.org to learn more. Today’s Slicing prompt is thinking about what inspires us to write on the early days of summer. I’m not quite there yet, but I’m almost there…….

Photo by Athena Sandrini on Pexels.com

Almost There

glancing backward to focus forward

setting the sails on this boat

checking wind direction

untying the ropes

feeling the breeze

smiling now

almost

there

Mosaic

Ollie is upside-down

in the olive chair

chasing rabbits in

his sleep in the quiet

morning whirr of

the fan, coffee

steam rising from

my cup, Boo Radley

curled around my neck

like a fur-fringed coat

on the back of my chair,

Fitz hiding out under

the bed again

while I consider all

the fine porcelain

plates, these

place settings of past

destined to become

somebody’s mosaic

art piece of the

future

Night Bloom

two summers ago

I bought a

night-blooming

Cereus for

ten dollars

thinking of

Dennis the Menace

getting in the way

of that plant that

blooms every 100

years and wondering

whether I’d be up

late enough to ever

see it bloom or

whether some

distraction would

forever keep me

from seeing it

but this very week

as a friend lost her

husband, this flower

bloomed in the dead

of night

like a smile from

Heaven

A Saga in Six Days of Life When You Live on a Farm: Featuring Boo Radley and the Unexpected, Day 6

All that matters to Boo in this world is his family (who speak his love language ~ food and attention)

Day 6

our Boo Radley

did a most

surprising thing ~

our Boo

forced a threatening

brown bull to retreat

to turn tail

and

take to the woods

or was that his intention?

was he a charger of bulls

or was he a shepherd

of cows?

was he herding them

back in their farm direction

because he knew they

were lost, drifters one

farm south of theirs,

needing a nudge?

this is, after all

the Funny Farm,

where you have

to be a little

sideways to end

up here in the

land of the

unexpected

where wrinkles in

perceptions become

realities like this:

Boo Radley is a

shepherding schnoodle

of lost herds, the

meanest bulls not

excluded, because

he knows how it feels

to be lost, looking

for home, aggressively

persuading them not

to give up a good thing

all this brings back

the day we were

on the beach

late afternoon

on a cloudy day

sipping wine

on a blanket

when two women

much further into

their bottle

walked by us too close

to our beach campout

according to Boo

Boo corrected

them

~not politely~

and in their swagger,

in their smirks,

their chuckles,

one taunted back:

oh, what a little badass!

fast forward

the years

to today and I

want to go back

to that moment

and say

yes ma’am,

he certainly is!

he fulfilled the

prophesy at the bottom

of your

wine bottle

you saw the future

of our little rescue

Schnoodle named

Boo Radley~

a champion badass

herder of bulls

you weren’t bullshitting